Impossible Fairytales
by vollkommenheit
Summary: -she's like the stairway to heaven through your plastic headphones, and your two-thousand-and-one stereo; her voice is waves and liquidized sugar over cuts and bruises. phoenix;thalassa-centric mainly, some other characters included. drabbles. UPDATED!
1. music

impossible fairytales

phoenix; thalassa . possible spoilers.

**[001. music]**

ohso unoriginal, i know. DX phoenix/thalassa, OF COURSE MUSIC IS THE FIRST THING THAT POPS INTO YOUR HEAD. *shot* anyway hi this is my most favourite pairing of alllll time AND I SWEAR THERE IS LITERALLY NO FICS, so please bear with me. :) ahha.

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He's like the broken master of the piano and when he plays it's his heart and soul pouring onto the keys; and he's so terrible and _incorrect_ he's brilliant. He's like Mozart on a bad day, he's like a chorus of nightingales and swallows- the piano-man, he's the maker of music so absurd no-one knows whether it's awfully bad or so good they can't hear it, don't even know about it-

_can't._

She's like the stairway to heaven through your plastic headphones, and your two-thousand-and-one stereo; her voice is waves and liquidized sugar over cuts and bruises and she's a drug, a feeling of euphoria that won't go away. She's a miraculous wonder and a beautiful accident, but she won't admit it-

"Together," Thalassa tells him over a coffee, and even then her voice is that of rivers and butterflies and magical melodies, "we could be the most amazing thing-- I'll teach you to play the piano, and-"

-And Phoenix rests his hand over hers and tells her _it's okay, don't try and make me something I'm not, _but he _wants _to believe in her, he wants to go back to his childhood days where magicians made miracles in the blink of an eye and she's sitting here, in front of him, and for once he _believes_ in magic.

"I'll show you how. Let me show you how."

They're the epitome of all things opposite. They're like black and white and rainbow and grey paint all on the same canvas, they're like silk and sandpaper, they're rich and they're poor and they're _the_ recipe for disaster (but- _come on_, it's the twenty-first century).

"We can still be magical," she says- _and he believes_-, "we just need to work out how."

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:) thank you for reading, as you can see this will (hopefully!) be a series of drabbles . please review~ 3


	2. drive

impossible fairytales

apollo-centric . possible spoilers.

[002. drive]

**(apollo's pov)**

thank you so much to the lovely princessphilomena (i cannot use teh commaz D:! lol) and impracticality for their reviews~ okay so this piece of crap *ahem* _drabble _is more apollo-centric as you can guess but it should still be related. heh. thanks for reading and enjoy~

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It's like this: ten minutes to midnight and you're kicking up the curbside puddles with your posh tyres, screeching and swerving along roads and pavements all at once in the stylish car your former boss-turned-murderer bought you for your twenty-first birthday. You're invincible and effortlessly glamorous, with rock music blaring out of the speakers because it _expresses your mood_; you're angry and full of hatred and feeling so exhilarated you can hardly breathe, you just want to _drivedrivedrive _feeling like you did when you were six years old and pretending to be an aeroplane.

Even though you're acting on an impulse, it still feels like power and reverence and all things green-coloured, because you're the_ king_, you're the _judge_, you decide who's right and who's wrong-

_(__-and you __**must **__be right because all that's left of them now is a spot in the distance behind your roaring engine and they __**can't**__ catch you, they'll __**never**__ catch you and you'll never forgive __**them**__.)_

You once dreamt about it; the time when you'd actually be able to rest in peace, and live without the black-and-white memories of being young and violent and so fucking _suicidal_, images of being a street-child for the few days you managed to escape from that goddamn care home which looked as if it was made from watered-down cardboard and bits and pieces from spiders' webs (the one _she_ put you in) and thinking you were God, and now they've (_she's_) ruined it. They're the enemy in your narcissistic tale, the salt to your wounds--

--so all you do is drive and drive until you can't feel a fucking single thing.

_It's like this: ten minutes to midnight and you're escaping from the world._


	3. unforgettable

impossible fairytales

thalassa;phoenix . implications of thalassa;former husbands. .__.

**[**003. unforgettable**]**

**(thalassa's pov****)**

thank you again to princessphilomena and impracticality (sick of me yet? XD) for their support. OH I FORGOT TO SAY: ace attorney does not belong to me. all characters and the game and stuff belong to capcom. yeah. .___. SHORT RUSHED DRABBLE DX

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When you were first in love you were young and every kiss was like a stardust-coated blackhole of the things of dreams, that stretched on forever and ever until you broke apart and gravity claimed you for its own; when you were first in love, it was all a glamorous illusion to you (_magician's _tricks) until he died in that stage accident, and it was just then that you realized how much you actually loved him (like the way a bird would fly across the ocean just to reach its mate).

And now you're back in another man's arms and they _could_ call you _**cheap **_or _**easy **_or anything they wanted, but the truth is you're so afraid of being alone again, your heart does star-jumps and and cartwheels in your throat whenever you dare think about it.** (don't.)**

You say, "It's just so hard to forget," when you really mean- _I don't want to forget. I don't want to forget the days when I could make magic. I don't-_

But somehow: you know that you have to.


	4. breathe

impossible fairytales

thalassa;phoenix

[004. breathe]

disclaimer: i don't own ace attorney or the characters. capcom does.

yeah, i have no excuses, except from STILL being appalled by my own grammar and not being eleven anymore. how i am predicted A* at gcse english I DO NOT KNOW. anyway, enjoy!

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"You need to stop coming here, you know. People are gonna get creeped."

He doesn't know why he's talking to her, he just can't stop the words coming out of his mouth. He knows he should be doing _something_, something better-anything. But he comes here instead, to the coffee shop, just to watch her sip cold coffee and stare into space with a smile playing at his lips.

She puts down the cup and looks up at him with a mixture of confusion and surprise on her face. "Do I know you?"

_Relax. _

"Yes."

"Well, I'm sorry," a waiter sweeps away her empty coffee cup as she stands up and shrugs on her coat, "I don't recall."

"You wouldn't."

She stops and stares straight into his eyes with her own icy blue ones. His breath catches; he never actually noticed how clear and full of light they were after she had the operation; so different to how they were before. "Your voice. I've heard it before; am I right?"

He smiles, and she realizes it has been years since she's seen a simple smile. It sends shivers down her spine. "Yes, that's right. I'm glad you remember."

"So.. would you mind telling me your name?"

"I'm Phoenix. Phoenix Wright."

Phoenix represses a grin as he watches the realization overcome her face, then as her eyes lit up and her mouth breaks into a huge smile.

"Phoenix... please, forgive me. I understand that I can sometimes act a little coldly around people I don't know. I apologize."

"It's quite alright," Phoenix replies with earnest.

"I can't thank you enough for all that you've done for me...I...I..." she breaks off to gaze all around her and is shocked to find that her newly-sighted eyes are welling up with tears at the sights in front of her; the afternoon sun shining in through the glass walls of the café, reflecting off the polished tables, golden, warm and soothing. A couple sharing a laugh and a kiss over a cup of hot coffee. The bustling street outside the café, full of all kinds of different-looking people walking by, all smiling and laughing and chatting, some looking busy, some looking as if they didn't have a care in the world.

To think that she's missed this for ten years makes it even more beautiful to see now; and as Phoenix wraps his arms around her and she sobs into his shoulder- _"It's beautiful, isn't it? The world." "Yes."_ -filled with his scent of warmth and belonging, Thalassa has to remind herself to breathe.


End file.
